Till Death Do Us Part 10
by Doug2
Summary: Piper, Melinda and Steven journey to the 17th century to save their destiny and witness the execution of Melinda Warren.


Part 10

"What do you say to this?" the stern judge said ominously pointing a finger at the elderly woman.

Standing up straight she replied, "I have no hand in witchcraft!"

"What did you do? Did not you give your consent?" he continued in his accusatory tone.

Susana Martin's eyes flashed, as she replied "No, never in my life!"

"Pray, what ails these people?" asked the judge sitting back in his chair.

"I don't know," she replied defiantly as her eyes blazed.

Tapping on his bench the judge asked, "But what do you think ails them?"

"I do not desire to spend my judgment upon it," she said flatly crossing her arms and glaring at the judge.

"Do not you think they are bewitched?" the judge inquiring as his eyes opened wide.

Susana Martin replied, "No, I do not think they are."

"Tell us your thoughts about them then," ordered the judge.

Susana Martin shook her head, "No. My thoughts are my own when hey re in my head, but then they are out they are another's. Their master…"

The judge's eyes lit up, "You said their master. Who do you think is their master?"

"If they be dealing in the black art, you may know as well as I," she said returning the glare.

"Well, what have you done towards this?" he said again using an accusatory tone.

"Nothing at all!" Susana Martin replied flatly.

The judge asked again, "Why, 'tis you or your appearance."

"Well, I cannot help it," she said pleading with the judge.

"Grandma, why didn't she just freeze them like you can?" asked Steven  
Armstrong, Melinda's twelve-year-old son.

Piper looked up at him shushing him. She and her grandson had flown to Salem Massachusetts on the occasion of the 350th anniversary of the Salem Witch Trials. For the last half hour they had been watching a holographic play reenacting the witch trial of Susana Martin.

"But Grandma with all this talk of witches, don't these people believe in us?" he asked again.

Quietly Piper replied, "Sweetie. Even though some of the people around here may say they believe, I don't really think they are up to the truth. Our business is best kept in the shadows."

"Oh. This Martin woman didn't keep quiet about it," he retorted.

"Yes, sweetie, but she was not a witch. Just an innocent wrongfully accused. Now just watch the show. Shh!" she said pointing to the holographic stage.

Much later Piper and her grandson were perusing the anniversary exhibit at the new Witchcraft Museum on the north side of Salem. Besides the theatre and interruptive center, the museum had many artifacts on display from the period. Susana Martin's spinning wheel, the laws books of Judge Hawthorne, a dish cabinet believed to have  
belonged to Mary Goode. In one corner was part of an old handwritten book, the pages cracked with age and the binding all but gone.

"The Girdmire of Melinda Warren," read Steven. "Do we know her?" he  
asked.

Piper stared for a moment. "What? Know her? I've met her," said Piper very quietly.

"I thought you were only sev-" started Steven.

"Through an incantation, my precious. All of this stuff is centuries older than me. I wonder. Could this be the lost pages of the Book of Shadows?" Piper said quietly.  
Piper ushered Steve to an unused corner. "Let me borrow your satcom. I need to speak to your mother."

Steve reached into his pocket and handed Piper an appliance no bigger than a quarter. "Open channel. Melinda Armstrong. Hello, Melinda. No everything is all right with Steven. He is a very bright boy. It's kind of important. Could you come here now?"

Light appeared behind Piper as her daughter appeared. "What is it, Mother?"

"My you are so talented. Come join me over here," she said quietly pointing back toward the exhibit.

"Hi, Mom!" piped up Steven.

"Behaving yourself?" she asked looking at him through one eye.

"Yes, Mother. This trip is a blast!" he said enthusiastically as they reached the exhibit.  
Piper pointed to the old pages.

"Blessed be. Some of our ancestors own spells in her own handwriting. Fascinating, but why the transcontinental urgency?"

Piper threw up her hands freezing the entire museum including her grandson who was not a witch. "Orb them out. There might be spells in it we could use. Besides it technically belongs to us anyway," replied Piper trying to justify the act.

"Mother. There must be hundreds of her descendants by now," said Melinda shaking her head.

"But only one magical line that YOU are part of, "Melinda." Just borrow it. We only need the written word not that old piece of parchment, sweetie," said Piper. "One quick reading and we can return it."

Melinda held out her hand. "Book!" The parchment glowed and then formed in Melinda's hand. "Now a hasty exit before this building reanimates. Hang on!" warned Melinda as she grabbed onto her mother and son and they disappeared in a blaze of white fireflies.

"My Latin is awful rusty. At least the old B o'S is in English," said Melinda carefully turning the pages after they orbed back to Piper's hotel room. "I should take this back home and scan it so it can be returned. If my memory is right, these appear to be simple household notes and recipes. Nothing mystical here."

"Just a bust, huh?" questioned Steve.

Piper through him an icy glance. "Anything that belonged to our ancestor should be treated with respect. Something you are sorely lacking, my dear."

"Please, Steven. Um. The signature definitely reads Melinda Ann Warren. Look at this last page. It's almost like it was written more recently that the other pages. This is not Latin. Maybe it is Gaelic. Emhard fretin gloanim potick vuldo transtor," she said slowly  
trying to read the indistinct scrawl.

"Welsh? Gallic?" asked Piper as the wind began to pick up inside the closed room. A small white dot appeared and opened into a white swirling whirlpool dotted with blue electric sparks that began to pull everything from the room. Piper grabbed Steven's hand and yelled "Hang on!" as his mother followed them into the white whirlpool.

"Oof!" cried out Steven as his mother landed on top of them. Still holding onto the book

Melinda got up and apologized to her son. "I'm sorry, Steven. You all right, Mother?"  
"Nothing broken. Just sorer than usual. Haven't taken that method of transportation in a long time. Ouch!" she said rubbing her sore side looking around.

"W-what was that?" exclaimed a rather scared Steven. He reached for his mother and then thought better of it and stood up straight.

"A portal to another place and or time. Probably activated by reading that passage from Melinda Warren's book," suggested Grandma Wyatt.

Melinda shook her head. "No! We've never done any high level magic like this before. It's not possible."

"Honey, with magic there is always a reason. And with trips like this there is usually a higher purpose in mind. Maybe you were supposed to read it. Who knows?" shrugged Piper.

"Grandma look. The bay still looks the same. But where's all the buildings?" asked Steven pointing to the shoreline.

"So we know where, but not when. This is not the twenty-first century for sure," said Melinda who noticed a small town down the hill. "That must be Salem circa seventeenth or eighteenth century."

"Mom. You're a witch! They are going to burn you at the stake!" yelled a very worried Steven.

"Only if you tell them. Besides, most of them weren't real witches anyway," said Melinda.

"Oh right. Grandma said something like that," said Steven sounding slightly relieved.

"But being dressed strangely could get us in trouble with the local constables. So let us wander away from the center of town," explained Piper pointing down toward a path that led away from Salem.

"And what do we do about getting some more clothes? I don't think we'll find a Macy's around here for about two hundred years," said Melinda a bit nervously fingering the Girmore.

"It might take a little thievery off someone's cloth line, Melinda darling," said Piper looking a little guilty.

"Uh, do they even dry their clothes that way, Mother? I don't think any of us are up on whatever century this is!" shot back Melinda.

The pathway narrowed as the trees formed a canopy overhead. They walked for almost a mile through nothing but a dense forest. Finally a clearing followed by fields and a farm came into view over the next rise. A man resembling a Thanksgiving pilgrim walked from the house to some kind of out building.

"Seventeenth century," whispered Melinda as they hid back in the woods. Nearby they found an old neglected one-room cabin.

"Quick in here," called out Piper. The roof was partly caved in. Some furniture broken rotted was standing in the one big room. "We'll wait till dark."

"For what? We don't know where this is, what we're doing here and how we're going to get back home!" complained Melinda.

Steven joined in. "Yea, Grandma. Where do we catch a jet back to sunny California?"

"Patience my dears. First we blend in and then we look for some answers!" said Piper as they heard some rustling in the far corner of the cabin. Up popped a grungy looking young woman with long blonde hair with a very determined look on her face. She threw her hands out toward them and Steven froze in place. Piper squinted a bit recognizing the grungy-looking woman. "Melinda, Melinda Warren?"

"Thou art witches of the light? Thy still hath thy motion," she said standing there quite astonished.

"Say what?" asked Melinda.

"Melinda, I think she means that we are not witches of darkness. You know, warlocks," whispered Piper. "Let me talk to her. I know her."

"Yes, Um. Mistress Warren. We are good witches who have journeyed far," replied Piper smiling at her speaking plainly and calmly.

"Thy are not witches I have seen. Thy garments say nothing to me. How do they speak to me with familiarity?" she asked indignantly.

"Whoa. We are strangers, this is true. And we have not yet met, but we will," said Piper. "Pray tell us the day and year, Mistress Warren."

"The year of thy Lord sixteen hundred and ninety-nine. The eleventh of October, mistress," she replied. "Tis strange you know not the year."

Piper turned to her daughter. "October 11, 1699. We're passed most of the Salem witch trials. However our family's first good witch in America was tried earlier this month and on the sixteenth was burned at the stake in Jamesburg, Massachusetts," Piper whispered to Melinda.

"Curse be on that village," shouted Melinda Warren. "People's tonguesdoth wag and thy magistrate condemns me to be burned."

"And how doth thou get here?" asked Piper. "Oh, that's catching."

"Thou sent a spirit to free mine shackles. I must flee Massachusetts Bay and journey to the villages to the north to find a new life," she said. "That why doth find me here in hiding."

"Let me get his straight. Something saved you so that you lived? I see some major history changing here. We've found our little point in time, Melinda," Piper said gravely.

Even though the questions were being answered, the situation was getting even more  
dangerous.

"Doth have my name?" she asked walking closer to them. "Of course she does. I NAMED her after you, MISS-STRESS WARREN!" snapped back Piper.

"Nae and lies. Yonder Mistress be of more years than me," she said getting mad.

"Melinda. The reason you don't remember us is because we did not meet you until you were three hundred years dead! We needed your help to battle Nicolas Tate. Remember him? Um," asked Piper tilting her head to one side.

"Aye. But he was banished," she said. "Only a descendent of mine could release him."

"Bingo! My sisters are your direct descendants. As are my daughter and grandson. Please unfreeze him," said Piper pointing to him.

Whoosh! "Like wild. I ,uh. What's been happening?" he asked.

"Such strange language. The Grimire of my magic. What doth thy do to the book?" she said sounding very perturbed.

"Like us, it came from far in the future. Three hundred plus years. You are my great-great-great on and on grandmother, Mistress Warren," said Piper moving her hand round and round emphasizing the number of  
greats.

"And we are at a loss being here too," said Melinda the later.  
"You are strange, but greet thee I do," Melinda Warren said taking Piper's hand. She immediately went into a premonition and saw Piper and her daughters standing around the Book of Shadows in the attic. Sitting down quickly she held her head.

"You OK, great-grandmother?" asked Steven.

"Many thanks, child. I doth a vision of thy world. And thou possess mine Book of Shadows and my powers. Thou must be of the Warren line. Blessed be. My daughters live on. Welcome daughters of mine," she said holding them tightly. "My greeting includes thy child and all thy kin."

"The same to you. Now what can we do about our clothes?" asked  
Melinda the younger.

Melinda got a slight smile on her face, walked across the room and brushed off an old trunk. "Searching this place, I found garments in this trunk. Thou might find them useful," suggested Melinda Warren.

Using the old clothes, the four of fugitives from various places and times entered ancient Salem. The day was late so they looked for a place to bed for the night. Turned away at the local inn, they were directed to a boarding house that had rooms for families, women and children run by a Mistress Mary Williams. The first floor consisted of a serving room and kitchen, while the second and third had the boarding rooms and room the Williams family stayed in. Melinda Warren had traveling money so that there was no problem in securing lodging.

"Thy shall rest well in the front room, my good women. Thy son may use the loft with mine Jacob," explained Mary Williams as they climbed the narrow stairs.

"We appreciate your hospitality," said Melinda the younger.

"Strange is thy tongue," she said looking at Melinda up and down. Though they had secured clothing, her face and shoes were still out of place in that time,

"Thy room shall be fine, goodly woman," responded Melinda Warren.

In the room upstairs they found nothing but a single bed, one chair and several hooks on the wall for clothing. The bed had a straw mattress and was mounted on a series of crosshatched ropes.

"Here is thy key," said Mistress Williams handing Piper a wooden "T" shaped tool.

"But there is no lock on the door!" replied Piper.  
"Tis to remove the slack from thy ropes in thy bed," she said again looking strangely at her. "Rest well. Sleep tightly," she said leaving them.

"Yea, right," replied Melinda the younger.

"Thy ropes. Ye tightened them every night so thy may sleep tight," explained Melinda.

Will my grandson O.K. Um.. Comfortable in the barn?" asked Piper looking quite worried at Melinda.  
"Master Steven should be fine till the morrow," replied Melinda Warren.

"I'm not so sure about us," said Melinda Armstrong as she eyed the chamber pot under the bed. "Whoever did this to us failed to leave instructions on how to get back."

"Mistress Melinda. Please sit down," asked Piper sitting gingerly on the side of the low bed. "Please. And call me Piper. Our generational lines are too far apart to be more than friends to each other."

"As thy wish, Mistress Piper," replied Melinda Warren a little reluctantly.

Piper tilted her head to one side. "Just Piper.'

Otherwise you make feel like I'm cheating on my husband." Melinda Warren looked confused for the hundredth time. "Thy speak doth perplex me."

"No doubt-eth. Now please tell us about your miraculous escape from the Jamesburg jail," requested Piper.

Melinda Warren looked at these two kindly women and decided to take them into her confidence. "For almost a fortnight I hath languished in mine cell. Whence I refuse to be named a witch, the magistrate condemned me to the stake. In seven days time was I to be purified on the prier in the large meadow. Nae, could I acknowledge my use of thy craft or lest my daughter be also branded a witch. With my friend Katherine Smyth would she be raised. Two nights passed an angel appeared. Nae, not the heavenly spirit for he hath the manner of a mortal. Nervous was he, though kind and powerful. He tilt thy head  
and my bars be gone into tiny stars."

"White lighter telekinesis?" asked Melinda. "Interesting. Please go on."

"He hath say little. Tilting thy head, my cloak and coinage doth appear. He pleaded that I doth journey far away and he hath vanished. Through the woods I tarried not and collapsed in the cabin thou doth find me in. Tomorrow I must flee Massachusetts Bay and nae return for the sake of my daughter," she said wiping away her tears.

"He did not have any evil intent?" asked Piper while holding her shoulders and she lay in her lap.

"Nae. Only my welfare," she replied sobbing.

"Wow. Doesn't sound like an attempt to end our existence," commented Melinda Armstrong.

"Don't be so sure about the safety of our future. We have done this skipping and hopping across time before, Melinda. Using only for a very definite mission. Any change here can have drastic repercussions decades and centuries from now. Melinda," Piper said turning to Melinda Warren. "We have quite a tale to spin for you. Sit still."

Melinda Warren sat up, placed her hands in her lap and listened. "According to our copy of the Book of Shadows there was a prophecy made by our ancestor. It told of the coming of three sisters. Three sisters who were to be the most powerful witches of all time. They  
were to defeat evil wherever it occurred. It was fulfilled in my lifetime. I was one of the Charmed Ones," explained Piper.

"I recall that premonition I had. Yes, the Charmed Ones," she said lighting up a bit with a hint of a smile.

"Much to our astonishment and horror, I lost BOTH of my sisters many years ago. And things have kind of been just the usual witchy business ever since then though I never grew up as a witch. But over the years I learned and my family has grown and prospered," said Piper looking pleased at her daughter. Piper swallowed a bit. "And that prediction was made my our ancestor, Melinda Warren.. um.. at the time of her execution. October 16th, 1699. Afterwards there were many, many generations of witches and evil fighters."

"My life is destined to end?" she said quietly to herself clasping her breast.

"That was what did happen. Someone came back to 1699 for whatever reason and freed you. Rescuing someone is very noble, but not when it's already an important part of own family's history," lamented Piper.

"All my daughters. They doth need me. One nae thinks so much bout the destiny of those so distance. I must return tonight," she said walking toward the door.

"Melinda. We'll help you get there. But tomorrow. You must rest. We have another journey tomorrow," said Piper patting the bed very astonished at the courage of this brave women.

"Rest, yes rest," she said almost in a trance. She lay down on the bed or straw mattress and quickly was asleep.

"Wow, she sure took that well. Wanting to be burned at the stake, that is. I doubt I'd have that much courage," said Melinda Armstrong shaking her head.

"We Halliwell's can find it when we need to be strong," replied Piper thinking of when Phoebe did the same thing in an alternate future or past or something. "And she had already once come to the decision to give up her life for her daughter. And she knows something of the future. Our task is to make sure she makes it back to her village."

"Assist in an execution? That makes me shiver down to my toes. Anything we ever vanquished was at least evil to begin with. She is our great..and so on. grandmother for God's sake!" said a shaken Melinda.

"Who has a destiny to fulfill just like we have. No one knows their destiny though some do need to be pointed in the right direction. Let us get some sleep, Melinda," said Piper. "For tomorrow we walk."

While Melinda Warren obtained some bread and water for breakfast, Piper and Melinda Armstrong journeyed into the barnyard looking for their son. They heard the commotion of boys playing on the far side of the barn.

"Strike two!" she heard Steven call out. Using a long pole and a ball made of rags, half a dozen boys from eight to teens were spread across and open field.

"Strike three! William you're up now. Remember the ball must be between here and here. Hit it and run for that tree over there," Steven explained pointing to first base.

"Steven," called out Melinda Armstrong.

"Just a sec, guys," he said calling to her. "Mom, we were just playing. These guys are having as lot of fun here."

"Listen, Abner Doubleday. You aren't here to invent the great national pastime. Besides these boys probably have to be in school," she whispered to him.

"Chores. It's harvest time. No school," he said to his Mom smiling a bit at her own lack of knowledge.

"We have a long hike ahead of us. Excuse yourself, Steven," said Melinda Armstrong to her son.

"Sure, Mom. Hey, guys. I have to hit the road now," he called out to the assemblage of boys.

"Hangeth cool," cried one.

"Doth take care," called out a second.

"Haveth a rad time," cried a third as Piper put her hand on her mouth to suppress a giggle.

"May thou make thyself visible on the morrow, master brother," called out the last one while high fiving Steven Armstrong.

"Let's get out of here," exclaimed Melinda Armstrong dragging her son with her doing a quick double step.  
A bit amused himself Steven whispered to his mother, "That last one was. 'See you later, bro.' I think they're getting the hand of it."

Piper patted her daughter. "I do not think these few boys will overcome the discipline of their parents. Strange speak and games will probably be discouraged. Or Noah Webster may have to rewrite his dictionary," she smiled trying to reassure her daughter.

"Hey, they really enjoyed playing the game," explained Steven.

"Life is hard back here, Steven. Most of their supposed free time was used to learn things they needed to survive, or to have as his trade when they reached manhood. And you are not far from that at twelve, my dear grandson," said Piper.

"So do we have to hop a horse or something?" asked Steven looking at the long muddy road.

"Hop if you like, but it will be easier to just walk all the way. We have forty miles to go in the next two days," said his mother.

"Walk?" asked Steven. "Yep. No streetcars or buses here. Come on sport. I'll help you  
youngsters along," said Piper jesting them just a bit.

Late in the afternoon, Piper sat down on an old log sitting beside the road. "Look at these woods. I expect us to be complaining about lions and tigers and bears," Piper quipped rubbing down her feet.

"Thy woods contain no such beasts, my daughters," said Melinda shaking her head.

Melinda Armstrong chuckled quickly and then caught herself. "Just a little reference to a story from the future. Besides this is hardly a yellow brick road."

"These old flats don't work well in all this mud. I bet they'll fall apart by morning," complained Piper.

"At least I like to wear these comfortable shoes at my shop," said Melinda Armstrong. "Though I could use a bit of a stop myself."

"Daughters, we must keep in motion or we shant reach the old Dupont barn before the setting of the sun," warned Melinda Warren.

"One minute please. OOO. That feels good. Melinda Armstrong began to massage her feet. Wish your father was here to do this. He has such good hands," she sighed.

"Mistress Armstrong!" blushed Melinda Warren.

"I apologize, but in our.." started Melinda when a bright white light flashed behind them punctuated by the sound of electrical sparks. Turning the four travelers saw a young man dressed in a bright white suit and high collar holding a small blue box.

"You're supposed to heading to Halifax in eastern Canada," he said  
quite perturbed.

" Canada?" asked Melinda Armstrong. "You're definitely not from this era."

"Then neither are you either," he replied looking curiously at Melinda Armstrong and her son.

"There is thy same angel, my daughters," said Melinda Warren pointing to the strangely nervous young man.

"Daughters?" he asked looking very confused.

"Descendants by quite a long time. You don't look like you're from our own past either. Cute angel suit," said Piper.

"I am Donald Leon Armstrong," he said introducing himself. Melinda Armstrong stepped back a bit and raised one eyebrow.

"Piper Marie Halliwell Wyatt," said Piper a bit stiffly. "The Charmed One? My great-grandmother?" he asked sitting down on the log.

"Whoa. This is too weird. You're from our future and we're from Melinda Warren's future? We need a program just to keep the generations straight. I need to sit a bit myself," she said lowering herself to the log.

"Thou art my descendant too?" asked Melinda Warren.  
"Yea. Of course. All of you are. Steven Allen Warren. Right?" he asked the youngest of them.

"Yea, so what?" he asked impudently sneering at him a bit.

"By one of you're comments I assume you are my grandson and Steven's son?" asked Melinda Armstrong.

"Yes, that's true," he said shaking his head as-of-matter-of-factly.

"Wait, no. I don't even have a chick yet," Steven said quietly.

Piper brushed his hair. "Time will prove you wrong. You still have a lot of growing up to do and many things to do, my boy. But the one great question we have is what are you doing here, Donald."

"I came to save Melinda Warren," he announced proudly.

"What?" cried out Piper.

"You're not making any sense," said Melinda Armstrong shaking her head.

"You're all witches and you're supposed to save innocents. Right?" he asked standing in front of them like a defense attorney.

"R-right," said Melinda hesitating a bit in agreeing with him.

"There you have it. Melinda Warren was our first innocent. The first one in our recorded history that our family didn't save. And I intend to correct it," he said tapping his finger in his other hand.

"Donald. You are right about history. It is our family history and that is the way it is written and that is the way it should be kept, guarded and cherished," said Piper trying to sound motherly to him.

"Cherish a death? Please Great-grandmother Wyatt. That is what we are sworn to uphold. The salvation of those who were wrongfully down trodden by the forces of evil. And what worse evil was there but the fear and prejudice of those that condemned the innocent and sentenced them to death," continued Donald.

"Um.. All you say is very noble and had quite a bit of truth in it. But the forces that shift when you change the past go beyond magic and you do not know what currents they may follow. You could condemn a thousand other innocents without knowing it," said Melinda looking straight at him.

"With my own freewill I go to the prier, my son," said Melinda Warren to him with a firm conviction in her voice.

"We may be witches, but we are still mortals, Donald. We do not have the wisdom or foresight to reroute history for our own causes no matter how noble they may be. That is why we do try and save as many as we can in our own time. The present, your present is your home. We were pulled from ours for some reason and we think it was to keep history on its course. As distasteful as we find the task, we still feel we must follow it," said Melinda Armstrong.

"And believe me we have had a number of distasteful tasks," quipped Piper.

"So who sent you here to supposedly change my mind?" asked Donald skeptically.

"Probably the Elders, though we did not get an engraved invitation!" replied Melinda.

"Ha, then it could have been someone who was evil!" he shot back.

"No-no-no-no," said Piper. "Evil was never this neat or subtle. In fact they prefer to tell us all their dastardly plans. Never found them very smart, which brings us back to you. Didn't anyone every give you instruction in temporal mechanics and the ethics of fooling  
around in the past?"

"I am fairly new to the craft. My learning only goes back about a year," he said reluctantly.

"Great! What is it with this family about not letting their magical children grow up with this great power they are given!" said a very peeved Piper.

"Mother, please. Donald. You really haven't considered all the consequences or backfire from your actions," said Melinda Armstrong.

"Consequences, shmon-seq-ences. I have had enough of those high- minded appeals. What are you made of rubber? Everything just bounces right off of you. I'm laying it right on the line, future great- grandson of mine. The absolute truth is that if you change your own past, your own ancestors, when you go back to whatever year you snuck  
out of, you will probably not even exist. Melinda Warren will have an influence on her daughter the rest of her life changing the lives of every Warren, Halliwell, Armstrong all the way down to you. IF THERE IS A YOU! So go ahead and fiddle around in history and erase me, my daughters, my grandchildren, everyone of us! That's why I don't like  
to travel in time and why I thank God that we have as little to do with demons and we do. Magic aside, I PERFER MY MORTAL LIFE! You get all that, BUSTER!" she said with her eyes popping from her head, her arms crossed and her worst peeved look on her face her daughter had ever seen.

"Mother!" cried out Melinda Armstrong.

"Thy mother doth spout a fury," exclaimed Melinda Warren looking astonished.

"Been one of those, too," said Piper still steaming.

Donald Armstrong just stood there looking dazed.

Piper threw him another wicked glance. "So what's its going to be? Mr. Hero or Mr. Oblivion?"

"I.. I.. I.. I guess I have not thought this out that well, great- grandmother," stammered Donald Armstrong.

"Piper is fine for me until you are until you show up in diapers, Donald," she said still huffing a bit.

"Yes, Piper. I will seriously consider what you have said," Donald replied.

"My dear grandson. We must know what you are planning. Are you going to follow this course or can we set history on its due course without any worry about it shooting off into some strange tangent?" asked Melinda Armstrong who also threw a very knowing glance at Donald.

Donald Armstrong looked down very disappointed and disheartened. He had started out trying to save the past and not destroy his present. He raised his hand and a swirling whirlpool appeared before them. "I shall not try to change the past again. You have my word. We will meet again," he said quietly as he jumped into the swirl and it disappeared.

"Now we've taken care of the why as to our merry journey into the seventeenth century. Our last task is to escort Melinda back to her.. um destiny," said Piper sounding a bit better after her explosion.

"My sweet daughters. Thou must journey home or my danger might be thine," warned Melinda Warren.

"Whoever did this probably wants us to finish the job or we'd be heading back home now. So we best be on our way. And Steven?" asked Melinda Armstrong to her own son.

"Yes, mother?" he replied.

"You have a temporal education to give to your son. He has much to learn, my dear," she said smiling at him. Melinda knew she best remind him again after Donald's birth.

After a lunch of nothing but chestnuts and blackberries, the three women and one boy returned to the muddy road. Tired as they were, they had gotten used to the walking. Only a few miles out of Jamesburg, Melinda Warren was sure that they would be there before darkness.

"So thou was at mine birth? Thou knew my mother?" asked Melinda Warren quite surprised.

"Yep. Another little innocent saving into the past. Some demon was trying to stop our line, again. And we got pulled into the past, again. And we came out on top, again. But that was under the Charmed Ones and the demon fighting was a lot more high order. My own daughters have been able to have a more normal life. Not all that bad," explained Piper.

"I don't know how 'normal' my life is, but I still have the satisfaction helping the innocents and the sick. And I have time to raise my two children," said Melinda proudly.

"And you did quite a marvelous job. Whoa!" exclaimed Piper as she came upon two Puritans dressed in black and white outfits sporting firearms. Though they probably did poor firing at a distance, he could easily hit them at only a few feet away.

"This doth be the witch, Master McFue," said the taller of the two.

"And thy whole coven come to wreak havoc on our wee village," replied the other.

Melinda Warren raised her hands as the two men stepped back raising  
their firearms at her.

"Peace, good men. Freely I return to thee. Freely I accept my punishment. These good women only help sped my journey."

"Thy sound strange. Women to protect a witch? Art thee witches?" Master McFue asked Piper, the senior woman present.

"Nae," she said shortly and briefly not wanting to tip her hand.

"Be thee from Salem, good women?" he asked with some disbelief.

"They journey from Salem to New Bedford to embark by sail to New York. Thy husbands reside there in the shipping trade," jumped in Melinda Warren.

He looked over the women skeptically and then in a very harsh voice  
inquired, "Be that the truth, young master?"

"Aye!" he mimicked back in perfect dialect.

"Very well. Thou shall see the magistrate before thy may journey further. Onward to Jamesburg," he commanded.

"Witch Warren. Thou leaving the jail is an admission of thy guilt. No worst punishment can I decree than the purification rite already passed as sentenced. Thereby on the eighteenth thou shall be lashed to a strong pole, brush placed at thy feet and thy mortal body shall be set ablaze. May God grant you entrance into his kingdom," said the  
magistrate who had previously condemned Melinda Warren to death.

Piper stood behind her, as did her daughter. Steven was not allowed in the courtroom. She held tightly onto Melinda for they were witnessing not only history, but the justice given to witches such as herself.

"Your honor. I fervently deny thy charge. I do accept mine fate," Melinda Warren said quietly, dignified and reverently.

Both Piper and Melinda, Jr. burst into tears. They had gotten to know this brave  
woman over the last few days. Instead of a stately great-great-great-grandmother whom they would place on a pedestal and hold in reverence, she had become a fellow witch and soul-sister that really was not that different than them.

"My lord. The state requests that Piper Wyatt and Melinda Armstrong be held over for examination on the crime of witchcraft," said the bored person representing the town of Jamesburg.

Piper stood up straight and tall while a chill ran up Melinda's back.

"Doth thou have any evidence or accusations for thy charges?" asked the stern judge.

"In less than a fortnight, the evidence shall be obtained," he said as Piper's blood now ran cold.

"Nae. Tis enough that the Witch Warren has been returned. Unless these good women have rightful accusers, they may proceed on their journey. Court is adjured," he said hitting the gavel on the desk.

"Blessed be!" sighed Melinda Warren only loud enough for Piper and Melinda Armstrong to hear.

"God go with you," whispered Piper.

Melinda turned and winked. "Thou were sent by him." She smiled and was led off.

The Wyatts were free to go. But where?

The following day at dusk was the eighteenth of October in the year 1699. The day had been chilly and as the sun went down, the temperature dipped below freezing. The Wyatts had stayed in the same household that was raising Melinda Warren's daughter, Prudence. Wrapped securely in a shawl the elder Piper Wyatt stood at the front of the  
pyre built from dry twigs and leaves with a sturdy eight-foot high pole in the center made of solid oak. Melinda and Steven stood beside her. Even though Steven did not want to witness this, they felt he best be near in case their train left suddenly for the twenty-first century.

A commotion started in the crowd closest to the jail. As the crowd parted, Melinda Warren joined them dressed only in a long white dress, her hands tied behind her and her head up looking quite proud. The jailer escorted her over the twigs and to the pole. Not untying her hands, she was lashed to the pole. She never once looked down on her accusers even ignoring the Wyatts. Piper held closely to her family, as they could not take their eyes from this ghastly pageant.

The magistrate's sergeant-at-arms approached where Melinda stood, removed a parchment and read. "Mistress Melinda Warren. Thou art been found by thou peers,  
guilty of practicing unholy craft and hath been branded a witch and sentenced to the pyre. May God hath mercy on thy soul. Ignite the pyre," he said deliberately and solemnly.

Another Puritan brought out a torch and proceeded to light the branches in several places around the pyre. Melinda Warren smelled the burning wood and felt the heat. She closed her eyes and raised her head.

"This business doth not end here for I have foreseen it. I hath seen that which comes before us. My line shall continue for scores of years. And one day, thou shall come three sisters. Three witches that shall have more power than ever seen before. They shall be known as the Charmed Ones and they shall fight evil wherever it is found. Evil more frightening than thou hath shown me. This I have seen. This shall be the truth. So let it be!" she finished shouting as the flames reached her going higher and higher. Reaching her feet, her clothes caught fire as she looked for the sky and screamed. The three Wyatt's stood there in horror as the spectacle became grimmer and grimmer. Piper could feel the heat as it got hotter and hotter and then she fainted.

"Piper, Piper," she heard through the mist. "Piper, Piper!" She moaned a bit and then opened her eyes and saw her beloved Leo.

"Oh God. A burning. We were witnessing Melinda Warren being burned at the stake. It was awful though somehow a bit compelling. She raised her head and predicted the coming of the Charmed Ones. Talk about seeing your destiny! Then she let out this mournful scream that even our worst vanquished demon never had. We saw a human being, our ancestor, roasted like a well-done steak. Just like we saw Phoebe burn. Oh Leo, there just aren't words for it," said Piper as she collapsed in Leo's lap.

After Piper had recovered, they had adjoined to the parlor at Halliwell Manor.

"Uh, Dad?" asked Melinda. "How'd we get here?"

"The Elders returned you though they might have done it sooner. They were the ones that put you in that situation and had you make the trip. Our descendent needed to have his life course changed around or your destiny would have suffered," explained Leo patiently.

"We could have used just a little warning. It's been quite a while since I used the old counter-clockwise express," said Piper wiping her eyes.

"If you had known, then you might not have gone," replied Leo.

Steven piped up. "That's for darn shooting. What didn't they tell us?"

"It's just their way," said Leo.

"Just a lot of white lighter doubletalk and nonsense justification. These guys can talk out of both sides of their mouth at the same time. Remember all the crap about us getting married?" said Piper starting on another outburst.

"Easy darling. Time is as it should be and you're back," said Leo hugging her tightly.

"Watch the pressure on this old body, angel boy. Just be glad we made it," she said to Melinda and Steven.

"And remember the best way to travel through time is to the future, young man," she said pointing to Steven.

Yes, mam?" he asked.

"Very polite. I hope you learned that way back there. Any way. Always travel toward the future at the pace that the good lord intended. One day at a time!" Piper said patting him on the back.

"Life was too dangerous back then. I'll stick right here, Grandma. THANK YOU!" he said grinning.

Piper looked at her husband and then remarked. "And I'm sure I learned something about that lonesome chapter in our history. Let us hope that the fear and prejudice known then will never surface again. Or we could see this happening all over again."


End file.
